


A Real Wolf Show-Pony

by ColetheWolf



Series: Smutty Drabbles [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cock Tease, Derek Hale has a HUGE ass, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Wet & Messy, camboy!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:59:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf
Summary: Amidst a late-night masturbation session, Stiles stumbles upon the fact that Derek is a slutty camboy on a sketchy looking cam-show website. He immediately tells his roommate, Scott, and slutty fun times ensure.





	A Real Wolf Show-Pony

**Author's Note:**

> Another "drabble", not really. It's longer. Enjoy!

Derek Hale had always been something akin to an enigma. There were a lot of things that remained secret about him, his life, his interests, his emotions. Sure, the pack knew certain things....Derek was a werewolf, an alpha, a total cauldron of broody brew. But that was just about it.

For Stiles, there had always been a couple questions about Derek that just always seemed to be off-limits — 1. what was Derek’s sexual orientation and 2. how in hell did Derek afford one of the nicest penthouse lofts in the city, despite seemingly having no legitimate occupation? They were good questions, but remained locked away and unanswered in the back of Stiles’ mind...

Until the universe decided to work some of its magic.

Stiles was in his bedroom, cooped up at his desk, boxers around his ankles — cruising the internet for something to entice him enough to masturbate. Now, he had only ventured onto one of those shoddy cam-guy websites a few times, but a craving came around, so Stiles decided that he’d give it a go. There really wasn’t anything to lose and if he ended up finding it intolerable, there was always dozens and dozens other free-porn sites.

As he was scrolling through the “LIVE” cam-guys, Stiles casually scrolled through the available thumbnails, waiting for something to catch his eyes. At first, nothing was doing the job. Everything looked boring...but then Stiles saw one thumbnail with Derek. _Fucking._ Hale—lounging around on a chair, shirtless, and stroking his cock.

Suddenly, the stupid cam-guy website got a whole hell of a lot more interesting.

Stiles clicked his way into the chat that coincided with the cam-guy’s thumbnail, surprised to find that it wasn’t some sort of virus bait. It was real. He was watching Derek—in real time—stroking his cock for a chatroom of about five-hundred other individuals. And Stiles _throbbed_ at the visual—a full on spurt of airborne precum shot out and splattered against the screen of his laptop.  

_This_...was way too good to enjoy by his lonesome. Stiles wanted to get somebody else in the action. It was the perfect opportunity to get down into some kind of fun. Derek was one of the hottest dudes in Beacon Hills. Nobody could disagree. Everybody probably wanted to fuck him. If the situation presented itself, Stiles wouldn’t turn it down...and neither would any of the other pack-members.

Stiles stood up from his desk chair and grabbed his laptop, kicking off the pair of boxers that had been at his ankles, and then eagerly rushed out of his bedroom to the living room so that he could get his housemate into the action. Derek jerking himself off for an audience on the internet was way too good to just let slip away with having some fun first.  

“Scotty, you have to fucking see this!” Stiles shouted, crashing down onto the couch right beside where Scott was sitting.

“Well, I can’t see anything because you jizzed up the screen.” Scott commented, gesturing to the spurt of precum that had blurred the live-stream of the cam-guy performer.

“Oh—” Stiles deflated, swiping the pre-cum away from his laptop screen with his thumb, before quickly popping his thumb into his mouth. “Okay, now look. Are you seeing this too? Or am I fucking tripping out?”

“Holy shit, dude!” Scott laughed. “Is this real — like, Derek’s actually doing this right now?”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, he’s a cam-dude. And look, he’s got five-hundred perverts clocked in to watch him bust a nut.”

“And we’re two of the perverts!” Scott clapped his hands together and then shucked down his pants, tugging out his cock.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Stiles cheered giddily.

The two housemates settled themselves in the couch, stuffing the laptop into the allotted space between the both of them so that they both could see what Derek was doing and what the chatroom was saying. Neither of them wasted much time at getting their own hands at their dicks, either. The visual and the overall reality of the situation was too damn hot.

Derek remained in the same position that Stiles had found him in — sitting in a desk chair, jerking his dick. He occasionally laughed and quickly answered some of the one-off comments that poured into the chat. Most of the comments were compliments and directions: _“ur hot af, bro!”_ , _“lemme drain your balls!”_ , _“flex your arms!”_ , _“show us your pits!”_....it was a firestorm of sex and seeing Derek so comfortable and chilled out about the whole thing was somewhat weird.

“I didn’t think he’d pack something that big.” Scott commented, stroking his dick.

Stiles snickered, thumbing at the head of his own cock. “You’re lame. Of course he was hung. Have you never paid attention to the way he walks?”

“I thought his pants were just too tight.”

“Yeah, that too...but like, that dick must get all squeezed and stuck in all kinds of uncomfortable positions when he’s trying to walk or run or stand around.”

Stiles and Scott continued to pleasure themselves, but neither of them were concerned with pulling themselves towards an orgasm. Instead, they took things slow and casual—laughing and cracking jokes whilst they kept special attention to Derek’s display of entertainment on the laptop screen. It was fun...kind of interesting....a definite topic for discussion.

It was incredibly strange watching Derek act so differently than expected. The man was a total walking bucket of broodiness just from day-to-day...but on the chatroom sex-cam, he was playful and bright and soft. There was an aura of casualness that seemed to radiate off of him. To watch Derek just sit back, all stretched-out, shirtless, hardened cock pulled out of a pair of track-pants—smiling and following all of the quick directions that got typed into the chat.

“Man, when you do think he’s gonna show his ass?” Stiles asked, overly dramatic and slightly frustrated.

“I don’t know — he’s been asked like twenty times by some of these other dudes.” Scott noted. “But it doesn’t look like he’s budging on the request.”

“So....what—?” Stiles scoffed. “He’s _Dick-Tease Derek_?”

Scott chuckled. “Ask him, dude.”

Stiles threw his hands up in surrender, laughing slightly as he picked the laptop up from the couch and set it back down into his lap. Anonymous guests in the cam-chat got a singular free message to type to a performer, whilst premium guests got unlimited questions to ask. Stiles wasn’t the “pay” kind of guy when it came to porn, especially not cam-shows. So he figured he’d use up his free comment for something important.

**[ScrumptiousStyle]:** “Hey, dick-tease. Nice dick, but I’m an ass guy. When are you gonna bend over and show us that thick ass?”

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Scott shouted, slapping his hand against Stiles’ shoulder. “He’s not gonna show us anything if you talk to him like that.”

“No — look.” Stiles alerted, pointing towards the influx of chat messages. Derek had responded, relatively quickly, providing some sort of help.

**[DhaleBH]:** “ ** _@ scrumptiousstyle_** , I don’t show that to just anybody. You gotta shell out the private room fee for that. $150. You wanna see this ass? Pay to play.”

“ _Fucker..._ ” Stiles muttered, setting his laptop back down. “Is this how he pays for that loft? By ripping off poor horny college dudes with exorbitant ass-shot prices?”

“We _should_ get a discount.”

Scott stood up from where he was sitting on the couch, wandering across the room to where his backpack was slouched down against the wooden television stand. He picked it up and rummaged through the contents for a moment, until he successfully fished his wallet out from the collection of crumbled papers and textbooks.

“Wait—are you actually gonna pay for this?” Stiles called out to Scott, looking down once more at the listed price for a private chat room, and then back up to Scott’s wallet. “This is basically robbery.”

“You wanna see Derek’s ass, right?” Scott asked, tossing his wallet across the room—striking Stiles square in the chest. “Well, he’s never gonna spread it for us outside of this chat, so come on. Pony up half the fee, we’ll watch Derek twerk for us, we’ll bust some loads, and it’ll be worth every penny.”

Scott was technically speaking the truth. Derek was such a prude when it came down to real life...there was no way in Hell that he’d ever show off his ass. Derek always hid it away inside of those tight jeans he wore, which were so tight that his ass barely got to even bounce around with movement and gravity.

Once the two were both settled back down onto the couch, Stiles pulled the laptop back into his control. He pulled up the payment window that was available inside of the chat, quickly entering in Scott’s debit card information, before submitting the finalized payment. When it was all said and done, Stiles laughed to himself, handing his roomie back the wallet and card.

It didn’t take long before Derek decided to react to the hefty payment. The public chat grayed out — kicking all of the other users out of the chatroom, effectively shifting everything into a private stream for Stiles and Scott’s pleasure. Meanwhile, Derek seemed to prepare himself for the show. He sat up straight in his desk chair and then started clacking away at his keyboard, typing out something.

**[DhaleBH]:** “You really must wanna see what I’ve got.”

**[Scrumptiousstyle]:** “Yeah....for $150 dollars, you better put that shit on display! That was some of our rent money.”

**[DhaleBH]:** “our??? Oh, so you’re watching w/ some friends?”

**[Scrumptiousstyle]:** “Just me and my roommate, two horny dudes, jerking off to you, dude...so are you gonna give us our money’s worth or not?”

Derek snickered, thumbing at his lip. He was somewhat impressed and visibly aroused by the demanding nature of the two charitable viewers. But instead of typing out something snarky in return, he got on with the show. He stood up from the desk chair that he had been sitting down in, giving the camera a particularly lewd shot of his dripping cock—which was still jutting out from above the waistband of his track pants.

He shoved the desk chair out of the way and maneuvered his camera around, pointing it in the direction of his bed. He needed more room to showcase what his private viewers had paid for. And surely, to the viewers’ satisfaction, Derek hopped up onto his mattress with a soft bounce—his back faced towards the camera, muscles sharp and flexed, with his clothed ass in frame.

Derek started to swivel his hips around, bending forward, arching his back, and letting the globes of his ass wobble with quick movement. Stiles and Scott started back with stroking their own cocks, attentive and receptive. Both of them watched the cam-show performance play out before them—mentally spun around with near disbelief. Derek was so comfortable with putting on his show for what he assumed to be total strangers.

Eventually, Derek looked back over his shoulder into the camera—flashing his anonymous viewers a quick smile—before he hooked the tips of his fingers into the waistband of his track pants and slowly pulled them downward. Stiles and Scott’s jaw dropped and their tongues practically hung out, sloppy with salivation, like hungry dogs.

Stiles and Scott traded handjobs, reaching over to clasp one of their hands around each other’s dicks. It added to the moment. Both of them wanted to suck as much pleasure as they could from watching the slutty display. Not to mention the fact that the feeling of somebody else’s hand felt way better. They had experimented together before, but it was a rarity. But considering the fact that they had just paid $150 dollars to watch Derek....it was a special kind of occasion.

“Hey, wait—I just thought of something.” Scott interrupted, tugging his hand away from Stiles’ leaking cock.

“Ah, come on dude.” Stiles complained, reluctantly bringing his own hand back to his cock. “I was getting into the moment.

Scott grabbed the laptop and started clacking away on the keyboard. Stiles lazily watched, more focused on what he could still see from Derek’s show. All the while, Scott pulled up some kind of sketchy looking program. Upon further investigation, Stiles was able to see that it was a screen-capture recorder, capable of recording what was was being displayed on the laptop.

“I’m gonna record it.” Scott said, booting up the program. “Then we can replay Derek show us his ass whenever we want.”

“Best money we’ve ever spent!” Stiles cheered, meeting Scott’s hand for a victorious high-five. “Now, get your hand back on my dick.”

Derek pressed forward into the camera, making it so that only the sharpness of his nose and plushness of his mouth were in frame. He made a grand show of sticking a couple of his fingers into the wetness of his mouth, slowly sinking them deeper into the darkness. He sucked on them passionately and lewdly, keeping it as pornographic as he could possibly manage.

And when they were sufficiently slicked up with his spit, Derek flopped backwards onto his mattress — kicking off his track-pants. He laid down onto his back and hoisted up his hairy legs, spreading them gently. Knowing that he had his audience members’ attention, Derek reached down with his spit-slicked fingers until they were in-between his legs, cupped underneath his balls, and right at his puckered entrance.

“Holy shit.” Scott breathed. “Is he actually about to finger himself for us?”

“He fucking better.” Stiles anticipated, gluing his eyes even harder to the laptop’s display.

Sure enough, the two roomies watched as Derek slowly slid two of his fingers into his hole. Derek kept it slow, but deep. He reached way deep into himself, pressing the tips of his fingers into his prostate with each insertion. Stiles and Scott swore that they could actually see sparks flash in Derek’s eyes whenever he pressed into himself....but the two could only imagine how tight he was.

Derek fingerfucked himself good and hard, picking up with pace without apology. His abs flexed intense with each jab and his very hard, very prominent erection stood proudly towards the ceiling — twitching and dripping each time that he fucked his fingers into his ass.

Meanwhile, a sheen of sweat began to glow on Derek’s overworked body. All of his body hair began to mat down with sweat onto the tanned skin of his body. But Derek refused to slow down the precision of his fingers. He continued to fuck up into himself, shouting out slurs and shouts of pleasure into the camera. His legs and feet shook violently and uncontrollably, reacting to the amount of delicious erotic juice that pumped through his veins.

“Do you think he’s about to shoot his load?” Scott asked, squeezing a tad bit harder at Stiles’ leaking cock.

“Yeah — look at his toes. They’re curling. His legs are shaking. His chest is heaving.” Stiles breathed. “And I’m gonna— _I’m gonna_ —”

Stiles’ body tightened and his breath quivered, caught under the gracious hold of his best friend. He felt himself explode into Scott’s firm grasp, feeling the ooze of his warm cum ooze over his cockhead and down Scott’s knuckles. Scott didn’t let up on his stroke, he continued to move his hand, pushing Stiles past his point of over-stimulation until there were screams.

But it was fun.

“Derek’s gonna bust.” Scott acknowledged, popping some of the fingers that had been washed over with Stiles’ cum into his mouth. “Hurry up and finish me off. I wanna cum with him.”

Stiles scooped up some of his spent cum and clasped his newly sticky hand around Scott’s prominent girth, pumping up the speed and tightness. As they both kept their attention on Derek’s writhing mass of sweaty muscle, Stiles felt Scott’s body heat surge into the palm of his cum-covered hand. He kept stroking, thumbing over Scott’s cock-slit, and using his inactive hand to cup underneath Scott’s balls to his asshole.

Scott came with an explosive shout—as did Derek. Stiles felt Scott throb into the grasp of his hand, but he elected to watch Derek finger his way through his own orgasm. Whilst he watched whiteness splatter all over Derek’s cut abs, he felt Scott spill over his own knuckles. And yet, Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes away from where Derek’s fat cock throbbed and the sight of Derek’s fingers shoved into the tightness of his ass.

The two watched as Derek sat up from where he had been laid on his back. He stared in the direction of the camera in a simple daze. Spent cum slowly drooled down his washboard abs, catching in the trail of black hair that stretched from Derek’s navel to his crotch. Derek sat there for a moment, catching his breath, and coming down from his orgasm...and then he winked.

Stiles and Scott watched as Derek winked directly into the camera. As they rested against the backing of the couch, they watched Derek reach forward and shut off the livestream, without giving as much as a final “thank you” for the private payment. But instead of scoffing out, Stiles and Scott just snickered to themselves—staring down to where they were both covered in their own cum.

“Dude—” Scott groaned. “—you owe me seventy-five dollars.”


End file.
